"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." -Ernest Hemingway

Friday, January 7, 2011

I'm already slacking

...on my photos. Last night I was so tired when I got home I passed out by 11. On the bright side, I've been waking up at 5 am for no good reason the last 2 days but yesterday I slept until 8:30. It was nice. The family is out of town tomorrow so I don't have to work again til Monday at 5!!! Oh happy day. Is it sad or is it one of those "welcome to the real world" moments that I look forward to weekends as much as I do?

Anyway, photos 6 and 7 (for Steph James and others):

Day 6

I know this looks weird/gross/violent but hear me out. The above picture is my new favorite snack. Introduced to me by a girl named Sophie, bartender at Cafe Oz, it is cream cheese (well, fromage à tartiner here, because it's the closest thing we have, and I'm tempted to say I may like it better) with Thai sweet chili sauce on top. Eaten on crackers, or in my case, toasts. It's a delicious appetizer (which they call the "entree" here, which leads to beaucoup de confusion for anglophones like myself), don't knock it til you try it. Apparently it's a New Zealand thing. I did have to try a few grocery stores before I found the sauce, but I have plenty more for next time.

Day 7

For day 7 I present to you La Brulerie Caumartin (a.k.a., the moules-frites place). Moules frites are mussels served with french fries. Apparently french fries (or frites, or chips to you English people) are quite a classy side dish, as moules-frites and steak-frites and all sorts of other -frites are commonly found on menus citywide. I can't attest to whether or not this is normal outside of Paris. You get a big plate of mussels and french fries for 9 euros, so Connie and I would split the plate and a carafe of house wine for about 7 euros each and people watch through the window you see above the "LA" in the sign. I didn't eat here today, but I walked by it and got a little nostalgic, I'm going to have to find a replacement moules-frites partner to keep my lunch prices low.

That's all, I'm still tired, readjusting to a normal sleep schedule takes longer than it used to. This must be one of those signs of old age, like worse and worse hangovers after less and less alcohol. Growing up is not as much fun as I thought it would be when I was 5.

Oh and PS - I'm coming back after the fact to add this part: yesterday Frank asked me at the dinner table if being with them was encouraging me to have children. That is the THIRD TIME he or Cristine has asked me that question...am I that obvious? Are they on to me? All I said was "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" and hopefully they will get the hint that they don't want to know the answer. My first reaction was "maybe I'll have them but give them back once they turn 13" but with the Boy right there I didn't think that would be tactful. But goodness do I fantasize about the day that I leave, never to see these people again, and the things I would like to tell them...